Configurations
by valkyrie-fe
Summary: As convenient as directly downloading information into your databank undoubtedly was, the members of Japan's Brave Police found that dramatically retelling stories from memory was much more fun. And does the Build Team have a story for Gunmax...
1. Chapter 1

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_I should have known those tweets would end in fanfic, with the twitlist I have… Who also said things like "I bet Gunmax gets that complaint a lot" and things of the like. And considering I ship it like burning… oops, my hand slipped and there was silly fanfic._

* * *

That didn't stop the Build Team from competing, though. And with Gunmax recently inducted and the tension between them finally dissipating, they had all the more reason to revisit some of their favorite tales.

Invariably, they always returned to the story of the giant panda. Particularly how it had sat and played with Deckerd and J-Roader like they were mere toys to smash together. Mostly they enjoyed it with a secretive kind of humor; it had been sort of funny, really, and yet they didn't bring it up when Deckerd (or especially Yuuta) was around to possibly misinterpret it as disrespect.

No, it had just been funny, simple as that — and yet Gunmax didn't join their laughter with enthusiasm until Power Joe flippantly reminded them of Deckerd's one complaint of the affair. Gunmax laughed himself silly, as their human friends would say, and didn't stop until he'd apparently exhausted himself.

Shortly after that, he left.

The Build Team glanced amongst themselves. What had that been about? Sure, it was amusing, but…

"These configurations aren't in my databank!"

Now what on Earth was so hilarious about that? Power Joe rubbed the side of his head. Gunmax sure was a strange one — that was all there was to it.

Still, he felt like they had missed something.


	2. Come on, baby!

So, a smutty sequel ensued. My first fics in this fandom have turned out to be crack and then smut based off the crack. So it's silly but hopefully a little sexy too, lol.

…no regrets. But a warning: this contains the most hilariously bad pickup line ever. (Also a lot of this was written at 4-6 am several times so if things are weird or misspelled or whatever |D sorry. I've attempted to edit it but lawl.) But still NO REGRETS.

* * *

Deckerd had just brought Yuuta home when he heard a familiar engine behind him. Sure enough, when he turned from the boy's window he saw Gunmax at the end of the driveway, sitting on his idling bike with a smirk playing at his lips.

Already, he had come to associate that expression with mischief.

"Gunmax," Deckerd said. "Something wrong?"

"Nope," Gunmax replied, "just figured I'd find you here."

Deckerd tilted his head, amber optics plainly confused. "So what brought you here? Isn't it a little out of your way?"

Gunmax grinned at him. "I was in the neighborhood," he said. "Wanna go for a drive?"

"I, uh…" Deckerd snuck a look over his shoulder.

"What? The kid's asleep, right? So come on!" He revved the motorcycle's engine, making Deckerd jump.

"He won't be much longer if you do that!"

Gunmax laughed, twisting the bike's handle and revving the engine again. "Come on," he repeated again, gesturing Deckerd his way. The blue bot spared one last glance to the quiet house behind him before walking a few steps forward.

"Where? What's going on?"

"Ah, ah," Gunmax said, waving a finger at him. "The journey is what's important, right?"

Deckerd frowned. What was that supposed to mean? "I shouldn't really drive around wasting gas… what if there's an emergency?"

Another chortle from Gunmax. "C'mon!" he urged again, in English. "Hop on, baby!"

"Gunmax…"

Gunmax revved the bike again, loudly. Like he'd been scalded, Deckerd hopped on the bike behind Gunmax. At that rate, he would have woken up the entire neighborhood, and would manage to make it Deckerd's fault, too. Special talent of his. Deckerd couldn't see, but he would bet Gunmax was grinning wider than ever right now.

Without warning, Gunmax gunned the engine and took off at an alarming speed. Deckerd's arms shot out and wrapped around the other bot's waist, optics wide as his cheek pressed against Gunmax's back. His arms trembled lightly, even as he straightened up. Still, he didn't move them, even though he considered hitting Gunmax for laughing at him again.

Some time later, Gunmax parked his bike under a bridge. Deckerd lifted his head, realizing that he'd half-dozed against Gunmax's back as the other bot had driven aimlessly about the city. He heard another chuckle in front of him. "Awake back there?"

"I am now," Deckerd responded, sitting up. His hands slipped back to his lap, an embarrassed heat flushing him when he realized he'd kept his arms wrapped snugly around Gunmax the whole time. Whether he'd fallen asleep or not, it was embarrassing!

Gunmax hadn't seemed to mind, though. He just shot another smirk over his shoulder at Deckerd and dismounted his bike. Deckerd followed quickly, finding that his front felt uncomfortably cool now.

Deckerd cleared his vocals, as if it would clear his mind of thoughts about how warm Gunmax was. "Where are we?" he asked, following Gunmax on legs that were a bit unsteady; they still tingled with the phantom thrum of the motorcycle. How distracting.

"Somewhere," Gunmax replied with a shrug. Deckerd frowned. Pausing beside one of the support pillars of the giant bridge, Gunmax turned back towards Deckerd. He caught that frown and grinned in return. "Don't worry, baby," he crooned, patting Deckerd's shoulder. "We're not lost."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

Gunmax laughed, leaning back against the pillar. He was strangely haloed by graffiti — Deckerd could only wonder how vandals managed to paint at such a height, but he'd learned not to doubt what humans could do. "I've got better things to worry about than where we are."

Deckerd crossed his arms. "Like what?" This was probably some elaborate prank — he hadn't excluded that thought since the beginning, really. Now all that was left was the wait for the punchline.

"Oh, I don't know," Gunmax said, tipping his head with another smile. He grabbed Deckerd's shoulders and reversed them, pressing Deckerd back against the graffitied pillar. "Maybe…"  
"Maybe…?" Deckerd repeated, optics wide. There was a tremble in his limbs that had nothing to do with having ridden on Gunmax's bike for as long as they had.

Gunmax smiled almost sweetly at him. "Something interesting," he replied. "Fun. Like what all kinds of configurations are in that data bank of yours? Or how many new ones can be added?"

Deckerd's optics widened further as he was struck by both sudden understanding and the implications of Gunmax's words. Heat flushed through him again. "I…"

That impish grin stole over Gunmax's features again. "Hush, baby," he murmured against Deckerd's lips. Deckerd hushed and simply revelled in the feel of warm lips against his own. Within a moment, Gunmax pushed him further against the wall, pressing their bodies close together, and Deckerd arched into the frame burning hot against his own.

He'd barely realized he had shut off his vision until Gunmax pulled away from his lips and his optics flickered on. Hot air washed between their mouths, bringing another flush of sensation tingling beneath Deckerd's plating. No matter how much he gazed at the visor mere inches from his face, he could only see the barest outline of Gunmax's optics.

Deckerd took in a breath as though about to say something, but before he could, there was a finger pressed to his lips. "Said 'hush' didn't I?" Gunmax murmured. "Unless you don't want to." Deckerd never thought he'd get to appreciate that asinine smirk of his from so close; he also would have asked after Gunmax's sanity and how he couldn't want this (of course, he hadn't realized how much until Gunmax kissed him, but that was a different matter) but Gunmax shushed him again after he shook his head at that addition. "Then you're talking to much."

"I haven't said anything," Deckerd protested. He couldn't see it, but he got the impression that Gunmax rolled his optics.

"And why would you want to?" he muttered, nipping at Deckerd's chin.

"Because you — ooh!" Deckerd gasped, arching his back again; Gunmax's hands had wandered down his back and begun teasing the base of the lightbar there. "You're being a pain," he finally managed.

Gunmax laughed at him again. "A pain in the ass, baby?" His hands wandered lower, squeezing at Deckerd's rear for emphasis. Deckerd jerked in surprise. He was about to retort when Gunmax kissed him again. Kissing him back was more interesting than talking, oh yes, especially with those clever hands still wandering over his body. His own moved with less boldness than Gunmax, but still doing the same — searching, testing, exploring.

Suddenly Gunmax moved his lips again, making an enticing trail right down Deckerd's neck. He let his head roll back, a rush of heated air coming from his vents as his helmet hit the stone support behind him. Unsurpisingly, Deckerd was able to think a little more clearly when he wasn't engrossed with Gunmax's lips and his optics flickered as a thought occurred to him. "Gunmax…" Gunmax grunted in response, obviously not paying attention. "Someone could see us."

"So?" he murmured against Deckerd's neck.

"So? What do you mean, so?"

Gunmax peered up at Deckerd, chuckling. "So what if they do?" He laughed again as Deckerd fumbled a response. "Afraid of what Azuma would say? Or Saejima?" he grinned. "Or Yuuta?"

Deckerd glared at him. "You—"

"—are right," Gunmax sing-songed. "So what? We aren't human, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun," he purred, nose to nose with Deckerd again. His hand trailed down blue and white plating, following every contour with teasing fingertips and grinning at every little flicker of expression across Deckerd's face. Deckerd's optics widened again as the hand teasing the backside of his thigh suddenly yanked up, hooking his leg around Gunmax's hip.

That was new. Heat flooded through him again, and as intertwined as they now were, Gunmax was sure to feel it. But that was apparent in the way he smirked; Gunmax was going to be intolerably pleased with himself for a long time, Deckerd knew.

That was the least of his worries. A sensor ping informed him that Gunmax was working open an access panel on his side. Deckerd glanced down. "Gunmax?"

Gunmax paused, sparing a glance at Deckerd. "Hmm?" He smiled again. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of that before," he teased.

Deckerd frowned at Gunmax. "Well, I…"

"No worries," he hummed, his hands going back to work. Deckerd inhaled sharply; Gunmax's fingers in his wiring was partly ticklish and partly… something - something that was like an ache, but not quite. But he looked down, watching in mild fascination as Gunmax found compatible wires and ports between their frames — not a difficult feat, exactly, considering that aside from aesthetics and specialized systems, they weren't all that different. And yet — each connection sent a new wave of information and feedback sailing through his systems.

Without realizing it, Deckerd realized he'd grasped Gunmax's shoulders with enough force to dent. "S-sorry," he gasped, forcing the joints in his hands to relax some.

A husky chuckle came in reply and it skipped through Deckerd's frame just like the data input. "No problem, baby," he murmured. Deckerd shivered.  
Gunmax's hands returned to Deckerd's frame, moving as though magnetized to every sensitive point reachable on his body. Searing pleasure flooded through him and he gasped, optics flickering offline. At Gunmax's urging, he wrapped his other leg around the other bot, and blindly grasped at his helmet. One hand snagged the antenna there, earning Deckerd his own gasp before he dragged Gunmax forward for another kiss that was all unrestrained passion.

The amount of data and sensation inputting his systems was becoming almost unbearable. At the same time, Deckerd wanted it to last; being physically entwined with Gunmax was one thing, but this — this connection — was far more intimate than he could have expected. It was intoxicating.

They fell into a rhythm: their systems synched closer and closer together, putting the connection's feedback in a maddening tight loop that raced burning paths through Deckerd's circuits. How Gunmax kept enough sense to continue teasing Deckerd's lightbar and other weaknesses on his frame was beyond him — he felt lucky to still be able to kiss the other bot.

There was the occasional murmur, in that odd mixture of English and Japanese that Deckerd associated with Gunmax. Deckerd was beyond trying to make sense of what he was saying — the pleasure had come to a thunderous crescendo and crested through his body, washing him with warm thrills of release. He felt warm air wash over his face as Gunmax let out a soft noise; Deckerd felt an echoing wave of pleasure from Gunmax's side of the connection, making him shiver with the further feedback crackling through his frame.

As he regained himself, Deckerd onlined his optics once more and took note of Gunmax's lazy smile without much surprise. He shifted before looking down. Oh. Right. "Are you going to let me down?" he asked.

"I'm thinking about it."

Deckerd sighed. "Why does that need so much thought?"

Gunmax shrugged. "Well, I did say configurations, as in more than one…"

He laughed for a full three minutes at the look Deckerd gave him.


End file.
